


He took the midnight train (going anywhere)

by WeeklyHuffleNerd



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, IRL Fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Like Tommy has a split lip and that's it, Minor Injuries, Sleepy Tommyinnit, big brother wilbur soot, they're brothers your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeklyHuffleNerd/pseuds/WeeklyHuffleNerd
Summary: This wasn’t supposed to happen. Out of every single outcome Tommy had thought of, he’d never had thought of sitting in a train from London to Brighton at 12:07AM with his school bag stuffed with clothes instead of books and blood on his lips from where his lip is split. He’s the sole occupant of the train cart barreling through the countryside, and if it were any other occasion, he’d stare out the window trying to take in the view, to spot the stars and the moonlit fields. Now, he’s furiously wiping away his tears, barely seeing the screen of his phone. His thumb hovers over Wilbur’s contact for a second, but he turns his phone before he impulsively hits it and does some stupid shit like interrupt Wilbur’s stream.Or, Tommy impulsively visits Wilbur after getting in trouble with his parents.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 24
Kudos: 998





	He took the midnight train (going anywhere)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369619) by [piteouspeculiarity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piteouspeculiarity/pseuds/piteouspeculiarity). 



> A FRIENDLY REMINDER that everything about this is fictional, while I write about real people, none of this is real, and if the creators ever express that they're uncomfortable with this, I will delete this work. I cannot know what Tommy and Wilbur's life is like outside of their streams. 
> 
> Aside from that, enjoy the fic!
> 
> Title taken from Don't Stop Beleiving by Journey

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Out of every single outcome Tommy had thought of, he’d never had thought of sitting in a train from London to Brighton at 12:07AM with his school bag stuffed with clothes instead of books and blood on his lips from where his lip is split. He’s the sole occupant of the train cart barreling through the countryside, and if it were any other occasion, he’d stare out the window trying to take in the view, to spot the stars and the moonlit fields. Now, he’s furiously wiping away his tears, barely seeing the screen of his phone. His thumb hovers over Wilbur’s contact for a second, but he turns his phone before he impulsively hits it and does some stupid shit like interrupt Wilbur’s stream.

Right. Wilbur’s stream. Which he was supposed to join. Which he  _ would _ have joined, if it weren’t for his parents arguing worse than normal, if it weren’t for  _ Tommy _ to try and interrupt because shit, he needed food and they were  _ in the kitchen, _ and if Tommy had simply waited until they left he wouldn’t be in this whole situation, with a split lip and still hungry, on a train ride to fucking  _ Brighton.  _ At midnight. On his own.

Fuck.

Tommy’s phone vibrates in his hand. One glance tells him it’s Wilbur messaging again. Wilbur had started streaming at 10, and the whole point of the stream was that Tommy would be there, but he wasn’t and now Tommy’s sure he’s disappointed a shit ton of people. Tommy quickly turns his discord status to invisible to make sure Wilbur doesn’t think Tommy’s just ignoring him. He kind of is, but for good reasons. How is he supposed to tell Wilbur that he can’t stream because he’s currently half an hour away from Wilbur’s house without Wilbur getting concerned and calling his parents? Fuck that. So Tommy opts to ignore his problems the best way he can, by turning up his music, even if it’s draining his phone’s battery and he really can’t use a dead phone at the moment. He’ll think about what he’s gonna do once he arrives in Brighton, but for now he simply stares out of the window, tears in his eyes, and stares at the blurry landscape before him.

After god knows how long, Tommy’s shaken from his trance by the train coming to a halt and a voice announcing that he’s arrived at Brighton. Tommy looks at his phone. 12:28AM. Shit, that’s late. He quickly checks twitch to see if Wilbur’s still streaming and sure enough, Wilbur’s still going strong. What now, he thinks. He could go to Tubbo, but his friend is probably fast asleep, considering the fact that he was planning to go to bed early and couldn’t join Wilbur’s stream. He could also go to Wilbur, but Wilbur was live and had neighbours who probably didn’t want a loud kid like Tommy around. Tommy opens Wilbur’s messages.

_ Hey Tommy are you still joining tonight? _

_ Tommy? _

_ Tommy are you okay you're usually online at this time _

_ im just gonna wait until youre here okay? _

_ Tommy please respond im starting to get worried _

_ Tommy? _

Tommy reads them all, before quickly sending a response.

_ Sorru some studf came jp i couldnt reply :/ _

Wilbur reacts mere seconds later.

_ Oh okay _

_ i got a little worried there sorry _

Shit. That wasn’t meant to happen. He wasn’t supposed to make people worry, especially not Wilbur, who should be having a good time on stream, but instead spent his time worrying about Tommy. He’s not wrong to worry though, Tommy thinks. He’s all alone in a town he barely knows, very hungry,  _ very _ tired and with no place to go.

Wait. He could go to Wilbur’s place. Tommy knows where Wilbur lives, and he doesn’t have a place to stay anyways. It wasn’t like he was going to go back into his house after spending an hour in a train to the seaside. He quickly sent a message to Wilbur.

_ How long arw you gonna keep streamong? _

Almost immediately he gets a message back.

_ im ending it in a few minutes _

_ unless you wanna join real quick? _

_ Its fine _

It’s really not, Tommy thinks. He had been so excited for that stream. He finally had the time to fuck around with Wilbur on stream, and he had went and fucked it all up by doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. And he hadn’t even managed to get food, Tommy thought, noticing the distinct lack of food in his stomach. He had sacrificed his evening plans for something he didn’t even get in the end. Fucking useless. 

Tommy shivers. He wishes he had a coat, but when he was hastily packing his bag he didn't want to risk going downstairs to grab his coat so now he's trying to stay warm with a stupid old hoodie that he's worn so many times it's barely warm anymore. He doesn't have anything else. He looks down to his phone, Google Maps open, giving a route to Wilbur’s apartment. It’s a ten minute walk. Only ten minutes in the freezing night air. Maybe he can warm up a bit during the walk. He can do this.

The ten minutes are longer than he thought they would be, Tommy thinks, when he’s standing in front of a badly lit door with freezing hands and his phone announcing over his music that he’s arrived at his destination. He squints at the nametags next to the multiple doorbells, trying to find  _ Wilbur Soot _ amongst the countless other names being poorly lit up by the shitty light at the door. He’d use his phone’s flashlight but his hands are fucking freezing and he doesn’t want to remove them from the hoodie pocket he placed them in a few minutes prior. He finds Wilbur’s name and the realisation sets in. Fucking hell. He’s in front of Wilbur’s apartment building. At almost 12:45 AM. His parents are gonna kill him.  _ Wilbur’s  _ gonna kill him.

_ Well,  _ he thinks,  _ no time to be a pussy about it. _ He presses the doorbell before he can think too hard about it. A few seconds pass before Tommy hears a  _ click _ and Wilbur’s voice calls out. “Hello? Who’s there?” It sounds shitty through the speaker of the doorbell system. Tommy laughs.  _ This is stupid, _ he thinks. “Hey Wilbur,” he says instead. Wilbur makes a sound that can only be described by the word ‘confusion’, and Tommy laughs again, though it sounds more like a sob this time.

“Why are you here?” Wilbur sounds upset this time. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Wilbur’s gonna hate him. Tommy’s eyes prickle, and shit, he doesn’t want to cry again, not when he’s already so tired, not when Wilbur’s only a few feet away, so he forces himself to sound normal, even if he’s already beginning to cry again. “Let me in, bitch, I’m freezing out here.” Wilbur grumbles and a few seconds later the door clicks open. 

Wilbur’s apartment is only two floors up, Tommy recalls, so he opts to walk up the stairs instead of using the lift. Normally he would gladly use the lift, but the hallway is cold and Tommy can’t bear waiting for the lift to come down when he can be in Wilbur’s apartment by then. Wilbur’s already waiting for Tommy, standing in the doorpost. Tommy rushes to Wilbur. He desperately wants to hug Wilbur, but Wilbur’s arms are crossed, and Tommy can’t properly see Wilbur’s face through the tears, so he can’t tell if Wilbur’s mad or not. Tommy stands in front of Wilbur, who takes a look at him, with his split lip, tear-stained eyes and a bulging backpack slung over his shoulder, before stepping aside and ushering Tommy inside. 

“What happened,” Wilbur asks as he walks over to where Tommy’s sitting down on Wilbur’s couch. He doesn’t sound mad. He sounds concerned. Tommy turns away. He can barely stop himself from sobbing, there’s already tears running down his face, and he doesn’t want Wilbur to see him like this. To see him at his worst. “ _ Hey. _ ” Tommy looks up to see Wilbur crouched in front of him, brows furrowed with concern. Tommy can’t stop the sob that escapes his lips, and suddenly he’s crying, hard, just because Wilbur’s not mad, but  _ cares _ instead. 

“Oh shit,” Tommy hears Wilbur say, before he’s embraced by Wilbur in a warm hug. Feelings suck ass, Tommy concludes, as he cries his eyes out into Wilbur’s shoulder while Wilbur’s rubbing small circles on his back. God he’s tired. If he doesn’t move soon, he’s gonna fall asleep right there, so Tommy slowly lifts his head. “Sorry.” Tommy rubs his eyes. His cheeks are wet and his eyes feel puffy, but he feels way better than before. Something about having someone who will hug you while you cry, or some other bullshit like that.

Wilbur leaves while Tommy’s taking the situation all in. He comes back with a glass of water and a small rag. Tommy graciously takes the glass and downs it all. He winces when the glass hits his split lip. Wilbur takes the glass before holding the rag up to Tommy’s face. He slowly starts to clean the split lip. 

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Wilbur looks at Tommy expectantly. “I fucked up,” Tommy mumbles. “How come?” Wilbur pulls away the rag. There’s blood on it. “My parents were fighting again and I was hungry so I went to the kitchen to get some food before streaming but they were there and my dad got mad at me interrupting.” Tommy gestures to the split lip. “I panicked and when I realized what I was doing I was already on the train.” Wilbur nods. “I-” _Fuck._ He’s still hungry. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

Wilbur looks up at him. “McDonald’s?” Tommy laughs. It sounds nothing like the way he usually laughs. “Is McDonald's even open?” Wilbur smiles. “Tommy, it’s McDonald’s. When is it not open?” Wilbur stands up and Tommy notices the gigantic wet stain on Wilbur’s hoodie. Fucking hell, did he cry that much? “‘M sorry for getting your hoodie wet.” Wilbur simply shrugs. “It’s fine, can change.” 

Wilbur hands Tommy another glass of water before changing. He comes back wearing a sweater. It looks comfortable. Tommy tugs on the sleeves of his shitty hoodie. Though Wilbur’s apartment isn’t as cold as outside, but compared to the warm hug he got before, it’s still pretty cold. He shivers. 

“Are you cold?” “No,” Tommy lies, but he shivers mere seconds later. Wilbur raises his eyebrows. “I can see that.” He turns back to his room. ”Let me grab something warm for you.” Wilbur comes back with a yellow hoodie in his hands. “Here, this might be warmer than yours.” Tommy quickly changes into Wilbur’s hoodie and learns that, yeah, Wilbur was right. The fabric is thicker and it isn’t cold from the night air like his hoodie is. It’s oversized, but comfortably so, and Tommy can’t help but snuggle up in the soft fabric of the hoodie. If he weren’t so hungry, he’d fall asleep right then and there.

“I’m starving,” Tommy announces, before standing up and heading to the door. He’s feeling way better now, and his cocky attitude is back. He grins at Wilbur, wincing when his lip stings from the sudden movement. “Yeah, yeah, let me grab my keys.” Wilbur sounds annoyed, but when Tommy looks over him, he can only see a smile on Wilbur’s face, no trace of annoyance visible.

Wilbur drives them over to a McDonald’s, where they end up ordering a Happy Meal along with food for Tommy. Tommy loudly makes fun of the toy in the box, mouth still full, while Wilbur fondly listens, eating fry after fry. He feels comfortable, sitting next to Wilbur on the shitty booth in a mostly abandoned McDonald’s at almost half past 1. Wilbur’s hoodie is cozy and Tommy can’t help but lean on Wilbur’s shoulder as he finishes his meal. He’s almost dozing off when Wilbur shakes him. “Let’s go home, Tommy.”

In the car back to Wilbur’s apartment, Tommy turns to Wilbur. “Can I stay with you for the night?” He doesn’t want to go back to his house and confront his parents, confront his feelings, not when he’s feeling so much better now with Wilbur around. There’s too much to think about, like leaving home to live somewhere else, or telling his followers that no, he isn’t dead, something just came up, and that he’s sorry for missing Wilbur’s stream, but Tommy’s tired and he finally feels happy, and he’s scared that Wilbur will tell him to go and that the feeling will disappear. 

“What? Tommy, of course you can stay!” Wilbur tears his eyes off the road briefly to look at Tommy. He looks offended, like the idea of Wilbur not wanting Tommy to stay is outrageous, and it does something to Tommy’s heart that makes him feel like he’s going to melt into a puddle. Fucking hell. He’s gone all soft. “Really?” Wilbur nods. “Really.”

Wilbur drags a spare mattress from under his bed once they arrive back at Wilbur’s apartment. “It’s not the best,” Wilbur says, as he’s dumping multiple blankets on the mattress, “but it’s better than the couch.” Tommy changes into his pajamas (which he had managed to bring), keeping Wilbur’s hoodie on, and returns to Wilbur’s room only to receive a face full of pillow. He softly smacks Wilbur back with the pillow, before collapsing on the bed. He’s tired as fuck. Wilbur quickly turns off the light and hops into his own bed, but not before ruffling Tommy’s hair. “Goodnight Tommy.” Tommy smiles. “Goodnight Wilbur.”

**Author's Note:**

> While I was writing I realized that Tommy actually doesn't live in London, but when I saw that it takes 5 hours from Tommy's town to Brighton by train I simply shrugged and ignored it lol. Anyways, HUGE thanks to the Writer's Block for giving me actual inspiration to get me to write this, and thanks to my friends for beta-reading and making me feel confident in my writing by crying about the sad parts (if you're reading this, I'm sorry)
> 
> Please leave a comment and kudos if you liked it!!
> 
> Come vibe with me on my [Tumblr!](https://il-arts.tumblr.com/)


End file.
